


we fell in love in october

by ranpoandpoe



Category: Original Work, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Girls Kissing, Inspired by Music, Original Character(s), i wrote this for her bday <3, the ocs are based on me and my gf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranpoandpoe/pseuds/ranpoandpoe
Summary: ...and that's why I love fall.
Relationships: Madeline Miller/Jane Austen (Bungou Stray Dogs), Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 2





	we fell in love in october

**Author's Note:**

> this is just me saying poetic shit about my gf and imagining stuff we could do together when we meet in person tbh,, also if you're ashley: darling i love you so much i am so in love with you i hope you're having a lovely day and i adore and worship you and every tiny little part of yours and- 
> 
> alright, i'll stop. this piece is inspired by girl in red's "we fell in love in october", pls enjoy.

My girl. 

I’m with her, on the rooftop; the sky’s beautiful, with so many colors and all its glory, but it’s nothing compared to my Madeline. 

Her eyes look like honey under the sunlight and her skin, so warm that I believe I’ll never be cold again. “I don’t like that the leaves fall when it’s Autumn,” she says and, under that October afternoon sky, I can swear I’d fallen in love. 

“There’s some beauty in it,” I reply and am not sure if I’m talking about the season or her. “It’s a cycle. It’s a bit comforting that the plants also need some time for themselves, just like we do. And when they come back in the Springtime, they’re as lovely as they can be. Besides,” I smile and look into her eyes, knowing that my reflection is getting bathed in honey inside them. “The leaves fall from the tree just like I’m falling for you.”

Madeline’s become adorably red and I can barely believe I have that effect on her — it feels like a dream, one I’d do anything to not wake up from. 

It still isn’t dark, but I can already see the ghost of the Moon hanging in the sky. I can, but I’m very busy looking at somewhere else: her. My girl, my Madeline. Those words sound so sweet that I whisper them,  _ “My Madeline… my girl…”,  _ desperate to know how they taste in my lips. 

Then, I felt the electricity before I saw it: her hand in my wrist as if asking permission to pull me closer — I let her. Those soft lips that are all I’ve dreamed about now touch mine, delicately and carefully. She knows I’m not going to break, but still cares about being cautious for me not to, unknowing that her touch is what picks up my broken pieces. 

Pick them up, then take me to the sky. My Madeline, your kiss sends me to Heaven, the only one I’ll be sent to — and I love it. We are no longer sitting on the roof, but floating, illuminated by the Moon and the lights of this city, too small for us. We need time to breathe so we separate our lips, slightly, and as simple as that, we’re back to the roof, no longer at our own personal Heaven. 

“Do you think they stare back at us?” 

“Who?” She asks and I want to kiss her again.

“The stars. If I was one, I’d be looking at you, too.” _As a human, I still look at her,_ is what I think. 

“You look at me like I hung them in the sky…” She says, staring at me back in awe as if she doesn’t deserve to be admired like that. “I’m in love with you.” Madeline finally lets out the words she had seemed to be waiting to say. 

And I want to answer. I want to tell her that I’m also in love with her, but not only and simply her: that I’m in love with the way she walks and the way the wind makes her hair fly. I want to say that I’m in love with the way she pronounces my name and with her voice when she sings to the tune she’s playing in the guitar, without even realizing it. It’s a little whisper, and I can’t do anything but feel lucky that I’m the only one to hear that.

I want to yell to the world that she’s my girl, my Madeline; that Madeline Miller is mine to claim, and that this statement is reciprocated. I want to do all that, but I know I’ll have all the time in the world to do that later. And that’s why I kiss her instead.


End file.
